Tag: President Macron

What’s going on in France?

As an exPat for the last nine and a half years, I encourage any of my readers and friends to chime in on this subject. It takes living in France a long time to understand the French.

One would have to be living in a bunker to not know what is going on in France. Transport strikes, garbage strikes, street protests, all in resistance to President Macron’s raising of the retirement age from 62 to 64 (at least that is the purported excuse though the french often don’t need much of an excuse to say they don’t like something).

The massive French protests against Macron’s pension

Macron no longer has a majority in the Assemblée Nationale, so he enacted the new law by special powers under Article 49.3 of the constitution. Last Friday, the Constitutional Council met to decide whether he was correct to do so and had France’s best interests at heart. As the sun set Friday, word came out that it was constitutional and the committee agreed with Macron 100%. He signed it into law within twenty-four hours.

People protest with a poster referring to the visit of Britain’s King Charles III – cancelled due to unrest in France – in Nantes, western France. [Jeremias Gonzalez/AP Photo]

People took to the streets in more protests. Monday night, Macron gave a pre-recorded speech meant to calm down the masses and urge everyone to move on. John Litchfield, who writes Opinion for The Local, an English language newsletter, had this to say on Tuesday:

“Yes, the pension reform is painful. But it was necessary. It’s all over now. Dry those tears. End the tantrums.  We can move on to things you will enjoy.

Higher wages. Sharing of profits. Better schools. No queues in emergency wards.  Expulsion of failed asylum seekers. Something for the Left of you and something for the Right.

Will it work? Probably not. The nationwide fit of shrieking and toy-throwing, some sincere, some synthetic and hypocritical, will continue for quite a while.

It is unlikely that President Macron will have much to show his wailing child at the end of the 100-day recovery period, ending on July 14th, that he promised on Monday night.

Superficially, this is just French politics as usual. France demands “change”. It opposes all changes.

France complains that it is slipping down the global league table of prosperity, influence and functioning public services. It refuses to accept that it should work longer or tax itself less to compete with its rivals and neighbours.

Superficially, we have been here before. All presidents for the last three decades have faced strikes and street protests against modest social reforms.

Some were withdrawn. Others such at retirement at 62 instead of 60 are now the “acquis” (status quo) which the new generation of protesters defend.

Others, such as the simplification of hiring and firing and reduction in pay-roll taxes, help to explain why joblessness in France has plunged from 9 percent to 7 percent in the last six years. Those reforms, started by François Hollande and continued by Macron, were opposed at the time by strikes, marches and scattered violence.

Surprise, surprise, no-one mentions unemployment much anymore.   

But there has been something qualitatively different – almost existentially different – about the pensions reform protests of the last three months. The language is different. There is an edge of hysteria in the allegations that the modest move in the pension age from 62 to 64 is “brutal”, “unjust” and “autocratic”.

The government’s use of its special powers under Article 49.3 of the constitution to push through the reform was predictable and widely predicted. It has happened 100 times before in the last 65 years.

This time 49.3 was presented as “an assault on democracy , “a trampling of the will of the people”, an act of “violence which called for a violent response”.

Close to my village in Normandy someone has erected a cardboard sign with the scrawled message in felt-tip pen: “49.3 = 1789”.  Revolution is in the air again, in the Gilets Jaunes rural heartlands, not just among the self-pleased, black-clad, young bourgeois anti-capitalists who smash shop windows and burn cars in Rennes or Lyon or Paris.

Compare and contrast this hysteria (I believe that the word is justified) with the unemotional language of the Constitutional Council’s ruling last week. The nine “sages” declared that the pension reform was reasonable and constitutional – and so was the manner of its enactment.  

The Council said that the increase in the official retirement age to 64 by 2030  would “assure the financial balance of the (state pension system) and guarantee its survival in the light of the increase in life expectancy”. The government’s use of several special powers to hurry and then force a decision was “inhabitual” but not contrary to the Constitution.

Normally the pronouncements of The Sages are accepted without much comment. On this occasion, Jean-Luc Mélenchon, the leader of the radical Left, said that it was a “violent” decision which would encourage a violent response.

Macron’s decision to sign the pension reform within hours of the Council’s decision was presented, even by moderate union leaders, as a “denial of democracy” and an “autocratic” refusal to listen to the voice of the people.

All of this can be dismissed as the sour grapes of bad losers. Mélenchon, who has been stirring violence for weeks, has little right to talk of democracy.

But those who believe – like me – that the pension reform is modest and justified must also now accept that something is happening here which goes beyond the recent French cycle of reform and protest. It is something that also goes beyond rampant Macronphobia of many French people.

Solenn de Royer in a column in Le Monde said that this has become a revolt not just against pension reform, but against the technocratic, top-down, diluted democracy instituted by Charles de Gaulle 60 years ago. There is much truth in that.

Emmanuel Macron claimed in 2017 to be a suited revolutionary. He was an impatient young man with many good ideas but he was no revolutionary. He was – and he was seen by many to be – the epitome of the kind of technocrat who used to stand behind presidents. Now HE was the president.

The father-knows-best tone of his 15 minute address last night – “dry your tears; lets move on” – placed Macron firmly in the Fifth Republic tradition of paternalistic semi-democracy. In the age of social media and the collapse of old political allegiances, that no longer works very well.

The Gilets Jaunes movement of 2018-9 already revealed a formless hunger for a new, more direct kind of popular control of decision-making. It also exposed how dangerous that desire can be.

If the French people want to have more direct control of their lives, they also need to move on. They need to grow out of the child, or teenage-like, modes of thinking which the top-down Fifth Republic has encouraged.

“The state (like mummy and daddy) is all-responsible and usually wrong. The state should do more but we should pay less taxes.”

In sum, the crisis over pension reform is both absurd and profound. It is both Macron’s failure and France’s failure.

A drum-beat is already starting suggesting that Marine Le Pe and the Far Right will reap the benefits in 2027.  That is the subject for another column.

But I believe that, in four years’ time, the country may be  more likely to revert to the unthreatening immobilism of the Chirac years: someone who promises to “listen” and then delivers little.”—-The Local

A bientôt,

Sara

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France and Vaccinations

In early December, word was out, in the French news, that one of the vaccines, Pfizer, was ready for distribution. It had a 90% efficacy. A couple of days later, we heard/read that the Moderna vaccine was also ready with a similar efficacy. To me, this seemed unbelievable. I had been told early on not to get my hopes up–that the fastest a vaccine had ever been developed was for the measles. That vaccine took 4 years to develop.

So when it became obvious that this not “fake news”, that there really was a vaccine, my spirits soared. I blocked out time to visit California and see my home I still own in Oakland. I wasn’t sure enough to make plane reservations but only because of the three week wait period after the second dose. I wanted to know the exact date the vaccine would actually take effect.

France rolled out a plan in five tiers. The top tier of people receiving the vaccine would be the most vulnerable, all people over 75 years of age, and those in any kind of nursing home. The second tier was all the health care workers, people over 65 years of age with compromising conditions. The fifth tier was called “everybody else.” At 73 and healthy, I fell into that category. OK, I’m glad I’m so healthy but I really didn’t want to have to wait that long!

Then around Christmas time, the tier levels changed. Why I’m not sure. At over 65, I was now in the second tier. I was to be vaccinated in February said the french experts. But that knowledge did me no good at all. By the end of December, the news outlets were reporting that France was failing completely at the job of vaccinating her people. They had hoped, outloud and in writing, to have 21,000,000 people vaccinated by December 31. In actuality, the report was 500-10,000 had been given the first dosage.

France vowed to do better. I still get my neighbourhood listserve from Oakland. Everyday, people were sharing with each other where they had gotten vaccinated. By the end of January, almost everyone I knew 75 or older had at least the first jab. My older friends in Arizona had both jabs and described an extremely well organised, well thought out process of drive-thru vaccinating. I don’t think President Biden had anything to do with this turn-around. My sister, who lives in Michigan, described total chaos in the University of Michigan Hospital. Perhaps it’s the states having control of how it’s done.

Meanwhile back in France, things were moving at a snails pace. For the first time, I found myself jealous of the US and how vaccinating was being handled. In Brittany, where I am at the moment, my friend called to find out when he, at 71, could expect to be vaccinated. He was told June at the earliest. I asked my friend, Barbara, what was going on. Unlike me, she listens to the french news most evenings. It wasn’t just France, she said, it was the EU. They were very slow out of the gate to order vaccines of any kind; way behind the UK and USA. “European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen admitted Wednesday that the EU’s much criticised approval and rollout of vaccines against Covid-19 could be partly blamed on the bloc being over-optimistic, over-confident and plainly “late.” (France24) She added that the EU had received 26 million vaccine doses and that, by the end of the summer, 70 percent of adults in the 27-nation bloc should be inoculated.

Once a bit of vaccine arrived, a photo of our health minister, Oliver Veran, began circulating on the internet. Our new heartthrob? it asked. He had to take his shirt off to get the jab. A nice distraction I think. Nothing else seems to have changed. Ask anyone here in Brittany if they know any more information and they just shake their heads.

Well, it seems French pride has taken a real hit. Last week, President Macron, told the nation that France would start making both the Pfizer and the Moderna vaccines in France. But production won’t start until March to be ready in April. The vow is that all adults will be vaccinated by the end of summer.

Meanwhile, France has been developing a test that will be an alternative to a poke in the nose. Labs have the green light to start the roll-out of using one’s spit. It must be tested in a lab so no on the spot results. And before you ask, I don’t know anymore. But here is an article in English that will tell you more: https://www.thelocal.fr/20210211/france-rolls-out-saliva-tests-to-detect-covid-19?utm_source=piano&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=213&tpcc=newsletter_members&pnespid=m_5ysalIV1GNfQzw8MGBMhEA5wXl_kueJbY6Ik4

So here we are, almost exactly a year since we first heard about Covid-19 in Wuhan. And what a year! Another article from The Local compares how European Countries are presently handling all aspects of the virus. https://www.thelocal.fr/20210210/compare-ten-charts-that-show-how-european-countries-have-fared-since-the-second-wave-peak. France is not doing very well. France and Spain are the only two countries who have seen a rise in Covid-19 since the second wave officially began.

https://www.thelocal.fr/20210125/opinion-is-frances-vaccine-programme-a-disaster-not-any-more05e4002c

From my friend, Jay Mac’s blog “JaySpeak” She is a wizard at finding wonderful and timely pictures like this one.

A bientôt,

Sara

Aggressive Friendship

I’m reminded that this is a time to practice aggressive friendship with each other, to be the one who seeks out the lonely and the troubled. It’s also true that character is formed in times like this. People see deeper into themselves, bravely learn what their pain is teaching them, and become wiser and softer as a result. David Brooks, NY Times

Last week, David Brooks, columnist at the New York Times, asked readers to e-mail him with thoughts, feelings and personal experiences of being in Lockdown (or whatever it is called in your country). This morning, he wrote us all a letter saying he’d received 5000 responses and he quoted a number of them. Students and the elderly, for different reasons, were scared and in tears much of the time. Reading his letter, I once again felt a deep sense of gratitude that, except for a few moments last week, I have been quite upbeat. I believe I’m being realistic and planning my days and weeks with reality in mind. I don’t like it but nobody asked my opinion. As the above quote shows, Mr. Brooks is encouraging us to reach out to people–especially the elderly and lonely people.

Le Jardin du Ranelagh: didn’t get the memo that we are all under lockdown.

Since most of us are only communicating through e-mails, phone calls and Zoom meetings, a lot can be misunderstood and cause grief, unneeded despair and a pulling apart of friendship just when we need to pull together. I’ve been quick to judge others when I didn’t like a communication. Then it occurred to me, what if I were upsetting someone else? How would I want them to treat me? I’d want them to put my e-mail or Zoom statement in perspective. I’d want them to extend to me the benefit of the doubt, that in these extraordinary times, many of us may say things in haste that actually don’t express how we feel. I know a lot of my friends are very anxious, their children aren’t near them and they feel powerless. Many are scared–that looking into the future seems bleak and unpredictable. I have sent e-mails off to close friends and family and not heard back. First I got angry, then I felt scared. It turns out that 100% of those e-mails were either not received or lost in an onslaught of e-mails. I want to be forgiven for anything I said or did, unintentially or even intentially but blindly. If I want that, I’d better extend that to others. I find this hard.

Normally one of the busiest areas of traffic in Paris full of honking horns, gestures and impatience.

As the days have turned into weeks and the weeks are slowly turning into a second month of lockdown, I’m feeling the fatigue of this sameness. I look out my window where it is 75o in Paris. It is green and the birds are chirping away as if all was normal. I may not have the largest following with this blog but I must have the best of followers! Many people wrote me last week in concern. Was I okay? Why was I crying? A number urged me to go outside and walk where it is green. I did. I went out three times and found it to be more stressful than staying inside. I live near Bois de Boulogne. Last Sunday, I walked in that direction only to be stopped by a line of police saying it was forbidden to enter. Only the small green areas are ok. Monday, I went to a real grocery store for the first time. The streets were full of people, many not respecting the 2 meter distance guideline, joggers were everywhere, families were everywhere. I had to remind myself we were in lockdown. I kept crossing the street, back and forth, back and forth, so as not to cross the 2 meter line. Tuesday night, French administration banned jogging between the hours of 10am and 7pm. I haven’t been out since then to see if joggers are respecting this latest decree.

Walking home along one side of Jardin du Ranelagh. Some Mayors in France in an autocratic move have outlawed sitting on benches. Not Paris.

I feel thin-skinned. I can’t control what other people think of me. I can’t control the Parisians who believe they don’t need to follow the rules. I can’t control people on Zoom who, no matter how much you remind them to put as much security in place as possible, aren’t listening. No matter how thin-skinned I’m feeling, I have to remind myself that no one means hurt or harm. I’m quite sure of that (with the exception of some politicians we all know and don’t love). I can’t afford to let myself get stressed by what others are doing. The CDC says that stress lowers your immune system. I have to practice love and forgiveness. That’s what I want from others.

Scotch broom (or maybe it’s French Broom) in full bloom.

This brings me back around to “Aggressive Friendship”. We live in an age where one can instantly ‘friend’ someone. It is even a verb: ‘to friend’. David Brooks urges us to reach out to the lonely, the elderly, those that cannot do much to fend for themselves during Covid-19. The dictionary on my MacBook Air defines friendship: “noun [mass noun] the emotions or conduct of friends; the state of being friends: old ties of love and friendship | this is an ideal group for finding support and friendship. • [count noun] a relationship between friends: she formed close friendships with women. • a state of mutual trust and support between allied nations: because of the friendship between our countries, we had a very frank exchange | the foreign ministers extended to eastern Europe the hand of friendship.” A state of mutual trust and support. Almost by definition, this says that friendship is deepened by surviving the big and small bumps on the road of life. Mr. Brooks is asking us to extend the act of caring–doing something for someone whether you know them or not, just because. Isn’t it extraordinary that it takes a crisis for the majority of us to practice this basic act of kindness? This is a time to practice love and tolerance. To remember the old adage that we were all taught when we were young: ‘do unto others as you would have them do unto you’. Never easy in normal times, but these are not normal times.

The beautiful Jardin du Ranelagh. It looks so manicured. Are gardeners out working? Is that considered a necessary work during this time? I don’t have the answer.

In the news: The French news says that President Macron is speaking to many of his advisors and will go on TV Monday evening to make new announcements. The lockdown has been extended but it’s unclear how long. Deaths have reached 13,482 in France. The number of ICU patients has declined as of yesterday. I don’t believe France has peaked yet. “Macron will have to steer a careful course amid the tentative signs of improvement, telling people they must still stay at home while giving indications about how the confinement may be relaxed.” France24.com. In the UK, Boris Johnson’s illness has brought much of the nation together wishing him well. That nation has been pulled into polarity for at least 5 years. How interesting that one of the main people fighting for Brexit should also be a unifying figure. He says he owes his life to the healthcare workers. I wonder if this will soften some of his more stringent beliefs. One also can’t help but wonder if he noticed how many of his saviors were immigrants.

A bientôt,

Sara This has been a very hard blog to write. For whatever reasons, I’ve lost paragraphs, been unable to upload a photo. and a few other things. For 48 hours it has been a test of patience to get this out to you. Makes me wonder what acts of maturity I’ve been needing to work on!

Day 14 of “le confinement”

Two weeks ago today, President Macron urged people to voluntarily self-isolate, do the obvious: don’t ‘bises’, stay 2 meters away from each other, cough into your elbow, etc. Since then, he has had to resort to draconian measures to get us to pay attention. At last count, France has 29,155 cases of Covid-19 and 1,696 deaths. We have been given a new ‘passport’ to carry with us, replacing the one from two weeks ago. This one asks us to put the time and date when we leave our apartment and adds two more reasons to leave. However, the old is still good, until further notice, as long as you write in the date and time and the reason if it is not on the original.

The weather has mostly been lovely although it has turned cold again. I think that will change this coming week. The papers show us eerily beautiful photos of Paris completely empty of people and cars. The police that have been stopping people and checking their ‘passports’ are backing off as a couple of them have died from the virus. Five doctors have died from the virus. Macron has brought in the military to help out the overworked protectors of the people.

I, and I assume most of you, have been getting e-mails from every service and store that has your e-mail address telling you that they have your best interest at heart, where to get more information on-line and how much they care about you. It has caused me to actually think that this is the perfect time to reflect on all our relationships. Are we keeping connected to the most important ones? Are we reaching out to someone over 70 that you care about just to see how they are? What would we change, if anything, in our relationships to these stores and services? Have your priorities changed in any way due to staying in your home? Like the Count in A Gentleman in Moscow (Amor Towles), do you think that “the endeavors that most modern men saw as urgent (such as appointments with bankers and the catching of trains), probably could have waited, while those they deemed frivilous (such as cups of tea and friendly chats)..deserved their immediate attention.” p. 391. These are life-changing times and reflection is a pursuit worth having a cup of tea with.

In other areas of life, yesterday was Opening Day of Baseball in the USA. The fields of green were empty and baseball fans around the world mourned. Rogers Hornsby, when asked how he spends the winter said,“People ask me what I do in winter when there’s no baseball, I’ll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.” Dan Barry wrote a lovely imaginative piece about yesterday’s Opening Day game: https://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/26/sports/baseball/baseball-opening-day-coronavirus.html My friend, Georgia, told me that her father once said “There are two seasons in the year. Baseball season and the void.” When I lived in California, I felt that way. Starting from the day after the end of the World Series, I would start counting down the days to Spring Training. Most teams had a Fanfest sometime in January and thousands of fans would pour into stadiums around America. When I moved to Paris, friends asked me ‘how can you leave your beloved Oakland Athletics behind?” I don’t have an answer for that. I subscribe to MLB.com audio and listen to all the games I can. The A’s, being on the West Coast, are the hardest. Only matinee games on the East Coast came on at a time I could actually listen. Now there will be nothing, but I still have my subscription. Just in case……

In another part of the sports section, I read that hospital masks are being sewn out of baseball uniforms. Soon health care professional will be sporting the the stripes of the New York Yankees and the Philadelphia Phillies.

I wish you all the best of weekends in our new, organically evolving times. This too shall pass.

A bientôt,

Sara

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